7th Inning Stretch
by ishIheard2day
Summary: Summary: "Santana leaned in to the blonde's ear and nibbled on the edge, 'you sure? It's melting faster than I can lick it and my fingers are getting sticky.'" Santana and Brittany go to a baseball game and get good use out of the press box. Brittana. Fluff and Smut. SUMOSMU Rated M for obvious reasons.


A/N: I decided to try my hand at writing a little smut. Some of you know that **Swinging Cloud** started her **SUMMER OF SMUT (SUMOSMU)** series a little while back- if you haven't had a chance to check it out, I highly suggest it! She's a phenomenal writer. Also check out **LoneGambit's** "It Was Only Ever You"—Just. Wow.

This being my first attempt at smut, I'd appreciate any and all feedback/PMs/reviews/etc.

** This fic isn't set in my "Stripped" universe, so feel free to read both. Or don't. You, know, whatever floats your boat.

Disclaimer: I do not own glee or any of its characters. If I did, Brittana would still be together and we'd probably have to move to Cinemax's late night time slots.

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SUMOSMU 7th Inning Stretch

Santana hates baseball.

She would rather sit in an empty room and watch the paint dry. Or be assigned a section of lawn to count each individual blade of grass. She'd even consider being locked in a padded room with show tunes blaring 24/7 a better alternative.

Yet, here she is, doing the very thing she hates. Why? Because she's crazy. And in love. And according to Hallmark, that's what you do when you're in love.

"Babe, I'm hungry. Can we please get something to eat? A hotdog. Popcorn. Candy bar. I'd eat anything right now." She didn't care if she sounded like a 5 year old asking their mom for permission. If she had to sit through another boring inning of baseball, she was determined to make it count.

Brittany turned her attention away from home plate and smirked at her girlfriend. "You'd eat anything, huh?" Brittany isn't a stranger to Santana's displeasure for baseball, or golf, or hockey… Really, Santana hates just about every sport that doesn't involve tackling (Brittany thinks it's the Latina's way of vicariously channeling her rage) or girls in skimpy attire (like dancing and swimming and beach volleyball and softball. Well, the softball fascination has more to do with the tight pants and grunts that can be heard a mile away).

Before Santana could respond, Brittany held out a twenty-dollar bill, "Bring me something back that's sweet, please." She kissed her on the cheek and turned her attention back to the game. Sure, Brittany had no clue what was going on in the game either, but it was the bottom of the 6th inning and she knew her brother, Jake, would be coming out in the middle of the 7th inning to participate in some weird baseball ritual.

Santana got up slowly and slid out of the row before she heard her name being called.

"Santana, honey, would you please grab me and David a bag of popcorn as well?"

Santana nodded her head at Susan Pierce's request and walked up the stadium stairs to get to the concession area. The Pierce family had come to the game to watch Jake participate in the 7th inning stretch. The entire month prior Santana had tried to find tickets to the baseball game for Jake. It was his birthday wish and Santana wanted to make sure he had a great 9th birthday. He was a diehard Chicago Cubs fan, and though Santana hated baseball, she knew that it would be a dream come true for him to be out there with players from his favorite team. He had even mentioned how the Cubs were "cursed" and thought being at the game might help them win. Then she heard about the contest that a little Cincinnati radio station was holding.

So she called. And called. And called some more. She even camped out in front of the station's tiny brick building over night, trying to convince them to give her the tickets. And it worked. DJ LezLee was so impressed by her tenacity that she not only gave Santana the promised two tickets, but she threw in three more for the rest of the family and made arrangements to allow Jake to throw a baseball from the pitching mound as a birthday present from the Cincinnati Reds.

So the original plan for David and Jake to go to the game had turned into an entire family experience. That's how she got roped into waking up at the ass crack of dawn and giving up her Saturday morning cuddles. That's why she's currently standing in line waiting to pay $14 for a bag of popcorn, a bag of cotton candy, and a box of DOTS. That's why she isn't currently enjoying the feeling of her girlfriend's body pressed up against her as she makes her writhe in pleasure and moan out her name. Just thinking about it is making her shift on her feet at the intensifying throb between her legs.

"Miss, can I help you?" The pimply teen, obviously staring at her chest, asks behind a crooked smile.

She rolls her eyes and points to each item on her mental checklist, "Large popcorn, blue cotton candy, DOTS, and…" Scanning the menu for something to ease her hunger as well, her eyes land on a girl behind the counter filling up a cup of ice cream and she smirks at the brilliance of her plan. "And a vanilla ice cream cone. Keep the change."

Santana makes her way back down the stadium steps, to their seats behind the Cubs dugout. She hands everyone their snacks before shimmying into her seat next to Brittany. The blonde heard a small moan and turned to see what Santana was doing when her throat went dry. Santana was curving her tongue around the tip of the vanilla ice cream. Brittany couldn't take her eyes off the Latina's talented tongue, noting how it seamlessly alternated between taking short and long laps. And then Brittany remembered how she had experienced that very thing the night before. She visibly shuddered at the vivid recall of how Santana's tongue had switched between taking excruciatingly long strokes of Brittany into her eager mouth and then quick, short thrusts; effortlessly keeping Brittany's orgasm on the brink of pushing her over the edge.

The blonde let out a tiny whimper and squeezed her legs shut. She only had three more innings to get through before she could drive them back to campus, and fuck Santana relentlessly in their apartment.

The brunette let her eyes flicker up to meet Brittany's penetrating gaze and noticed that the normally calm blues had transformed into a more electric shade that only meant one thing: Brittany was terribly turned on in the most delicious way. The blonde was biting her lip hard enough to draw blood, trying her hardest to keep her guttural moaning to herself, but she knew Santana had heard when the shorter girl pulled the ice cream away from her face and a smirk was in its place.

"Hey, B, you wanna lick my cone?"

Brittany's fingers tightened to knuckle-white intensity and she shook her head, not trusting the moan lodged in her throat to stay put if she opened her mouth.

Santana leaned in to the blonde's ear and nibbled on the edge, "you sure? It's melting faster than I can lick it and my fingers are getting sticky."

Brittany could hear the Latina's confidence oozing into each word. It's one of the many things that she's attracted to. Most people see Santana as a walking sex symbol. She has the looks to drive any man or woman absolutely insane. Plus she's smart as a whip, studying pre-med neonatal surgery because she wants to help those who can't help themselves. She has aspirations to work with "doctors without borders" because she understands that just because Americans are fortunate, it doesn't mean everyone else has an opportunity for quality healthcare. She's got her firecracker temper that, once set off, is hard to contain- especially if Brittany isn't around to gently calm her down.

She's attentive to Brittany's family as well. Which is just as endearing as any of the other things. Brittany knows this is what will make the Latina an excellent wife and mother- she pays attention to the little things. Like getting the popcorn without salt because Brittany's dad has to limit his intake, and bringing an extra bag so that Susan can pour her own portion and salt it as much as she wants. Or like getting Jake the blue cotton candy because he loves the way it makes his tongue turn blue. And, getting Brittany the DOTS because Santana knows that they're the blonde's absolute favorite.

But, none of those things compares to the way Santana always reminds Brittany that she is loved and desired _always_. Brittany never has to question whether Santana is thinking of her, or if she wants her, or if they will have a future together. Because Santana always makes it known.

She smiles at the Latina before leaning in to give her a quick peck on the lips. "Someone woke up on the horny side of the bed this morning."

"I can't help it that I can't get enough of my beautiful girlfriend."

"Smooth talking won't get you your way right now."

"I should've gotten crackerjacks- at least then I'd get a prize to hold me over."

Santana huffed and pouted. Her plan wasn't going the way she wanted. Not only were her fingers sticky, but she was pretty sure her panties were just as sticky- and it had nothing to do with the ice cream.

She continued eating her ice cream, not bothering to bite into the cone, all the way to the rim when she noticed Brittany stealing glances at her. Suddenly the blonde's mouth dropped open at the Latina's bold move. Santana had completely bypassed eating the cone in favor of plunging her tongue into the opening of the cone in order to get to the rest of the ice cream.

"Saaan," Brittany couldn't help but vocalize her anguish in the least sexual way she could think of. Santana swirled her tongue around the top of the cone, plunging it in to the creamy center sporadically. She internally fist pumped the air. If Brittany was finally vocalizing her frustration, that meant she was one step closer to giving in to Santana's wishes. But she was startled out of her internal victory dance by Jake jumping up and running across the aisle to stand between her and Brittany.

"Brit! Sanny! Stand up!" Jake was jumping up and down, shaggy blonde hair whipping around in the air, and the excitement evident in his twinkling blue eyes.

_Take me out to the ball game; take me out to the crowd. Buy me some peanuts and crackerjacks; I don't care if I ever come back. Cause it's 'root, root, root, for the… _

Santana and Jake yelled, "CUBBIES!"

_If they don't win it's a shame. Cause its ONE! TWO! THREE strikes you're out! At the old ballgame!_

_Now, if you'd all turn your attention to the big screen as Jacob Pierce comes out to throw his first ever major league baseball pitch! From all of us in the Cincinnati Reds family, we'd like to wish Jake a happy ninth birthday!_

Jake came back with two signed baseballs (one from the Reds, one from the Cubs), a Reds t-shirt, and one of the Cubs players gave him a signed version of one of his backup baseball hats. Brittany looked over at the Latina, who was doing a little dance with Jake to celebrate all of his cool presents, and her heart swelled even more. _How did I get so lucky?_

Suddenly Jake looked at the ice cream cone in the Latina's hand, and his eyebrows scrunched up in a confused expression. "Sanny, why are you eating your ice cream weird?"

Santana blushed and tried to come up with a reason, "The, um, cone doesn't taste good." She shook her head at her lame excuse.

"Oh, well that stinks. Your hands look really gross covered in ice cream. That's why you should've gotten extra napkins or put it in a cup like mom makes me."

Brittany laughed at her little brother's bluntness. "Yeah, maybe I should help her get to the bathroom to wash 'em off." Jake nodded and Brittany grabbed the Latina's hand and led them towards the aisle.

Susan cleared her throat, "Girls, we only have two innings left in the game. Please try to be back before it ends. I know how Brittany can get _lost_, so I'm counting on you Santana." David chuckled and shook his head. The Pierce's were very familiar with the antics of the two girls: In high school they had gone at it like bunnies and, apparently, nothing had changed since going to college.

Brittany pulled Santana up the stairs, past the first two sets of bathrooms, to the elevators. They went up a couple levels before the doors opened to the hall of press boxes. Brittany had swiped her mom's press pass ID and used it to access the last suite in the hall.

"Britt, what are we doi…" The fierce crashing of Brittany's lips into hers cut Santana off. Their lips moved against each others, relishing in the familiarity that you can only get from years of experience together.

Brittany tugged Santana's v-neck t-shirt up and groped her red lace covered breast forcefully. There was no preamble of romance; this was about expressing their intense lust for one another, not their eternal love. Santana moaned into Brittany's mouth, she was already so incredibly turned on that she knew if Brittany touched her now she would be embarrassingly wet. But she didn't care. Not when Brittany looked at her like she was sex on legs. Their kisses turned more desperate, into primal grunts mixed in with the clashing of their teeth and tongues. Santana struggled with the button on Brittany's pants, and grunted out, "Off. Now."

Brittany loved it when Santana was forced to one word sentences because she was overcome with desire. Brittany pulled back and smirked at the Latina, "Uh-uh. You can't open it, you can't get the prize."

Santana huffed out an exasperated, "If that's the way you want it." Before pushing the blonde against the other wall. She shoved her hand into Brittany's jeans, bypassing the need to unbutton them, and felt the blonde's wetness immediately coat her fingertips. Brittany's head dropped back against the wall with a slight thud as Santana used her skilled fingers to work her up quickly. Suddenly Santana removed her fingers and the blonde whimpered at the loss of contact.

When she heard a wet _pop_ her eyes snapped up to see Santana sucking on her fingertips. The same ones that had just been coated in Brittany's juices. "God, Britt, you taste so fucking amazing." Brittany's eyes grew impossibly darker as she picked the shorter girl up and set her on the desk in the corner of the room.

Brittany made short work of stripping the Latina of her short blue jean shorts. Revealing a red lace thong that matched the bra that was quickly taken off before being thrown across the room. Santana leaned up on her forearms to watch Brittany as she lowered herself between the Latina's legs. She pushed Santana's legs further apart, her senses immediately assaulted by her lover's musky scent, and looked at the glistening core practically beckoning her forward like a Siren to a weary traveler.

She took a tentative swipe of her tongue, moaning as the sweet-saltiness coated her taste buds. "Ugh, you taste so good, babe."

"I need you." Was the only coherent thing Santana could think of to express her need. She had been worked up all day, and her body was aching for release.

Brittany plunged two fingers into Santana's dripping core—relishing in the immediate tightening she felt grip around her. She waited a second to let Santana adjust before she started up a quick rhythm running her tongue along the soaked folds, purposefully avoiding Santana's throbbing bundle of nerves. Brittany was quickly working Santana closer to the edge as she plunged in and out. In and out.

The brunette's eyes were squeezed closed, relishing in the feeling of her girlfriend's skilled fingers, when they suddenly popped open and a moan tumbled loudly out of her mouth. "Fuck, do that again. Right there."

Brittany curled her fingers again, pressing lightly into the ridged knob as Santana started to writhe beneath her.

"B, please. Baby, please."

She knew Santana was close to the edge when she started to beg, but she refused to give her release yet.

"Not yet, you teased me all afternoon. Licking your ice cream. Making me imagine your tongue was on me instead."

Brittany brought her other hand up to tweak the Latina's nipples, still keeping up her quick rhythm with the other hand. Suddenly she felt Santana's walls clench and watched as her orgasm ripped through her unexpectedly.

"Oh… fuckkk…" Santana hadn't expected the orgasm to come, neither had Brittany. And she surely wasn't ready for what Brittany had in store. Brittany latched her mouth around Santana's clit and grazed it gently with her teeth, which immediately sent the Latina into another intense orgasm.

"Britttttt, ughhhhhhh. Fuck me harder." Santana didn't know what came over her, but even as her second release was rippling through her she needed Brittany to go faster and harder. Brittany quickly complied, lifting up to use her thigh to help her go deeper, curling her fingers to hit _that spot_ over and over before pressing her thumb back into the swollen sensitive nerves of Santana's clit causing her to tumble over the edge for the third time.

Brittany slowly worked Santana down, removing her fingers and replacing them with her mouth to lap up the Latina's juices. Santana grabbed the blonde's hand and brought it to her lips, slowly sucking each digit dry. She moaned at the taste of herself on her girlfriend's fingers.

The vibration, plus the visual, made Brittany's already soaked center even wetter. "San, I need you to touch me. I want you to lick me like I'm your ice cream cone."

Santana slid off the desk and pushed Brittany down into the office chair. She yanked the button of her jeans open and pulled the blonde's pants and underwear down her legs in one swift motion; tossing them carelessly across the room. Santana groaned at the sight of Brittany's glistening pink sex and lifted the long toned legs onto her shoulders and pulled her closer.

Without hesitation she spread Brittany's folds, deeply inhaling the slightly sweet scent, and plunged her tongue into the blonde's entrance. Alternating her rhythm, strokes, and pressure, Santana brought Brittany to the brink of orgasm, then with the flick of her thumb, Brittany's orgasm ripped through her violently. Her thighs squeezed around Santana's head, but Latina didn't stop licking up her girlfriend's delicious nectar. It was like the nectar of the Gods.

Brittany pulled Santana onto her lap and kissed her deeply; both girls moaning at the delicious mix of their tastes before Santana pulled back and smirked. "Maybe we should go to more baseball games."

Santana loves baseball.


End file.
